Someday We'll Know
by LyricInTime2803
Summary: Gary reflects on his divorce. Written years ago, but I just found it and figured I'd post.


**Someday We'll Know**

_LyricInTime2803_

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own anything to do with Early Edition or its characters, they belong to whoever owns them. Believe me, if I did, the show would not be off air right now, and poor Gary would certainly not have any trouble with lack of relationships. Sue me if you'd like, I have enough money to last me the rest of my life as long as I never buy anything. No copyright infringement is intended.

_Summary: _Gary reflects on his divorce. Inspired by a song by the New Radicals; lyrics are included at the end.

_Authors Notes:_ I found this tonight while searching through my hard drive. I had absolutely no recollection of writing it until I opened the file. I was about thirteen when I wrote this, I think, so it would have been about nine years ago. Therefore, while constructive criticism is absolutely welcome and wanted, just keep in mind that this is old and I was much younger when this was written. I don't really read EE fic anymore, nor do I write it (though who knows, maybe there's another file somewhere that I've completely forgotten about!), but it was this fandom that introduced me to fanfic. But anyway, I figured I might as well post this.

* * *

A cool November breeze swept across the wide fields of the open countryside in northern Illinois. A red-tailed hawk gave a hair-splitting battle cry as it swept down to the earth, capturing an unsuspecting field mouse in its sharp, deadly talons. It gave another victorious cry as it beat its wings, carrying its last meal of the night back to its nest. Nearby, a white-tailed deer snapped his head up fearfully at the sudden noise. Slowly, he lowered his majestic head again, knowing the loud screech was of no danger to him, but still ever cautious. Yards away, a red fox peaked her head out of her den, scanning the area one last time before settling down for the evening with her kits. Life was abundant in the rolling fields, all adjusting to the changes of day into night, autumn into winter. All unaware and uncaring of the black jeep driving along the dirt back roads that cut through the abandoned countryside.

Dark, gentle eyes watched the hawk's rapid decent to earth. Though too far to clearly see, the man could tell the precise moment those pernicious talons closed around the paralyzed rodent, piercing its tiny heart. His soft face contorted as he could almost feel its rapid beating slow gradually, until the beating ceased to exist, another life claimed in the name of survival. The man continued to drive as he saw the hawk soar off into the distance, carrying its prize with it.

"Why couldn't you save that life, huh Hobson?" he grumbled to himself. Benevolent by nature, he had never liked death. He had always declined to go on hunting trips with his father as a child, and with friends as he grew older. He could never understand why anyone would want to take the life of an innocent creature just for the sport of it. Likewise, he could never conceive of how anyone could kill another man. But for someone that was faced with man's dark side every day, Gary Hobson didn't think he'd ever comprehend or get used to it.

"You couldn't even save your own marriage!" he answered himself grumpily. Gary continued to drive through the rolling back lands, watching all the creatures of the fields go about their business. Many were beginning to succumb to the sanctuary of their dens, their nests, and otherwise appropriate homes. But life was still profuse as the dusky twilight fell over the placid terrain.

Gary knew he should be getting back home, but he was reluctant to leave the tranquility the open fields offered. All the life that surrounded him proved to exist in an ideal world. Every critter, every plant lived out its life with the sole purpose of survival. Eat. Sleep. Propagate. Defend what was worked so hard for. Day after day, night after night, until the end. No killing just for the sport of it. No violence, no hatred. Only man possessed these qualities. Murder within a species on an individual or collective scale is a phenomenon known only to man. No, to this all-American Indiana boy, this was the perfect world, this field. This was Utopia.

Gary's thoughts rolled back to earlier that morning. It had started out just as any normal day would. But for Gary, this was not a normal day.

***

"Good morning Chicago! It's 6:30 am and here's today's forecast!"

The entirely too perky voice of Trevor Gavin, Chicago's newest morning radio newscaster, floated through the room. But neither Trevor's well meaning report nor his enthusiastic attitude were welcomed as a fist flew from under the covers and silenced the offending resonance.

Gary Hobson, the owner of that wrathful fist, could not care any less at the moment about today's chance of rain or predicted high temperatures. At 6:30 in the morning, all Gary cared about was sleep. He knew he had but a few brief seconds more before—

"Meeooww!"_ PLOP!_

—The Paper. Gary turned over, pulling his pillow over his head and once again burying himself under the covers, attempting to get a few more minutes of sleep. But just as every other day, the cat would not allow that.

"Meeooowww!" the cat reiterated, louder and more insistent this time.

"Gaw Abay!" Gary yelled towards the door, his words muffled from underneath the pillow. Determined, he pulled the blankets up even further and the pillow even tighter over his head.

"_MREEOOOWWWW!"_ the cat howled back, annoyed. He would have none of this nonsense.

"Alright already, I'm coming! Just once, damnit, just once you think you could let me sleep in? Today of all days! Just gimme a break, would ya?" Gary continued to yell at the cat as he opened the door to the loft. The cat stared up at him innocently, as he sat perched atop a copy of the Sun Times. Intense orange eyes stared up into soft mud puddle green, a silent conversation conveyed between them. Gary swore that the cat winked at him before running inside towards the recently vacated bed.

"Hey! You get back here, Cat, I'm not done talking with you!" Gary shouted at the cat, who continued on his route towards the warm blankets. Disregarding Gary's threats, the cat jumped up, circled around twice, and made himself comfortable in the warmth Gary had worked so hard to stay in. "And stay off the furniture, or else!" Gary threatened, attempting to maintain some authority. The cat lifted his head and once again drilled his arcane eyes into Gary's, seeming to ask him teasingly, "Or what?" Letting out a wide yawn, Cat lowered his head, once again ignoring Gary's threats.

"You're nobody till you've been ignored by a cat!" Gary mumbled under his breath, shaking his head and surrendering. Turning to the paper he had retrieved just moments ago from the door, he scanned the headlines. Just once, he wished he could be a normal person. Just once, he wished that he could wake up, and leisurely read the morning newspaper, remorseful yet careless as he read about the tragedies that had occurred the previous day, just like every other person in the world. But no, Gary knew he could never do that.

For two years, the Chicago Sun-Times had been delivered to his door; an orange tabby cat perched atop it. But this was no ordinary newspaper. This was an early edition. Not just in the sense that no person should be awakened at the ungodly hour of 6:30 in the morning. But Gary Hobson was the chosen recipient of _*tomorrow's*_ Sun-Times. He received the Paper a day early, chalked full of all tomorrow's headlines. Gary used this advanced knowledge to prevent others from tragedy. Every day, he went out on the streets of Chicago, sometimes risking his own life in order to save another. He did this often without receiving any signs of gratitude. But he continued to trudge out every morning, sacrificing himself for others.

Despite all his complaining, Gary knew he'd be lost without the paper. He had come to depend on it. Those times that he couldn't see the paper, he felt lost, vulnerable, and even paranoid. He constantly worried whether a headline had changed since he last checked. He worried whether or not someone's life could be in danger, and if he would be able to discover it and arrive in time to make the save. The Paper offered him a sense of security, and he wasn't sure how he'd survive without it. But, as much of a blessing as Gary knew the paper was, he continued to curse at it and the cat every day, grumbling at his little "drill sergeant" to send it elsewhere and leave him alone.

Today, however, Gary didn't _*want_* to care about everyone else. Today, Gary had his own self pity to wallow in. Because today was Gary's anniversary…. Or used to be. Gary's divorce two years prior had been a shock to him, one he had never quite gotten over. He had come home that cool November evening with roses and a bag of groceries, from which he intended to produce a special feast for his wife. As he rode the El train home, he leaned down and smelled the roses, a small smile crawling over his face as he thought about the magical night he had planned. But those plans were never put into action. For when Gary Hobson arrived home, the only anniversary presents he received were new locks on the doors and his suitcase flying at him from the upstairs window. A few days later he was served his final gift: divorce papers.

Gary was shaken from his reminiscing by Cat, who was rubbing against his legs, indicating to Gary that he wanted food. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm on it." Gary mumbled as he opened a can of tuna. Placing it on the floor, he headed towards the shower.

******

Marissa Clark sat on a bar stool, sipping her coffee and waiting for Gary to enter. A steaming cup sat untouched beside her, what she hoped would entice Gary to sit and talk to her. Most mornings, Gary came bounding down the stairs, unable to spare a minute on his way to his first save. Between her managing McGinty's and Gary out with The Paper, they rarely had time to sit down and have a decent conversation anymore.

Today, though, she knew Gary would need her support. He'd never admit it- insisted he had found closure long ago, but Gary was still deeply wounded by the divorce. He never quite felt he deserved another person's love after that. He was always too afraid. Of rejection, of more pain, of going through the same nightmare all over again.

But Gary was a good man. She had never met anyone with as large a heart and as good of intentions. And cute, from what she was told. Marissa had never minded being blind, not if that's what God had chosen for her. She had overcome her limitations and was a stronger person for it. Every day she continued to show others how capable she was and that she could usually "see" clearer than most sighted people were able. But she wished she could see Gary sometimes. She knew he was tall, a little over six feet with an athletic build. Others described him to have dark black hair with brooding eyebrows, and a face like an apple pie. His eyes were brown pools with specks of green, construed by someone once to be "mud puddle green". She could almost envision Gary when she spoke with him, but what was more important was that she could see straight to his heart.

As Gary descended down the loft stairs, she was shaken from her thoughts and attempted to catch him before he ran out the door.

"Gary! Good morning, how's the paper look today? Care to sit down and have a cup of coffee with me?" she asked him hopefully. Maybe if she could get him to sit down, she could get him to talk about his feelings.

"N-no, busy. V-very, very busy. No time to sit, s-sorry. G-gotta run, bye Marissa." he mumbled as he once again attempted to run out the door.

"Well how 'bout dinner then, Gary? It's been ages since we've talked!" She could tell from his nervous stutter that he was uncomfortable and did not want to get cornered into talking.

"I can't, I'm sorry Marissa." he told her, cringing at the defeated look that crossed Marissa's face. He once again turned to leave, then paused. Turning back around he took a large sip from the coffee she had thoughtfully prepared for him. "Thank you, Marissa," he told her truthfully before finally leaving the bar.

"Poor guy," Marissa said to herself. Gary had never been comfortable discussing his emotions. But she decided to take comfort in the fact that when he was ready to talk, she'd be there for him. Smiling, she slid off the barstool and began the preparations of opening McGinty's.

****

Gary walked to his jeep wearily. He had just completed the last save of the day. 30-year-old Jan Tyler would have tripped over a pair of her son's shoes left carelessly on the stairs, falling and breaking her neck. Running late, Gary had just enough time to dash in the door and catch her as she began to fall. Luckily, Jan did not question why this strange man was in her house. Instead, she thanked him profusely and offered him a recently made batch of pecan cookies. Gary shyly accepted; it wasn't often he was shown such gratitude for his actions.

Instead of driving towards McGinty's, Gary instead turned in the opposite direction. He did not want to go home right now. The loft was a constant reminder of what he was missing, what he had lost. Right now, he needed to get away from everything. And Gary knew just the place. It would be a long drive, nearly two hours from Chicago. But it would be worth it. The landscape had always been his favorite part of the drive from Chicago to Hickory and back. He would often stop along the way, simply watching the animals go about their lives. He wondered why humans didn't make things that simple. 'Maybe,' he thought, 'we're not the more intelligent species. Maybe they know something we don't.'

***

As Gary's thoughts brought him back to the present, he glanced at the clock. He really should be getting home, he knew. But he had some things he needed to figure out first. Gary shook his head, turning on the radio for some noise. This far out in the country, not many stations clearly came in. But as he scanned, a song came on the radio that caught his attention. It was a smooth song, a blend of guitars and piano softly adding to the low voice of the lead singer.

As the first few threads of the song floated through the air, he leaned back in his seat, continuing to drive as he listened to the lyrics. But they only amplified his musings of Marcia. What if Marcia was his only chance? He had once asked his mother how many chances a person gets in life. "42!" she had responded matter-of-factly, receiving the first smile she had seen from Gary in a long time.

But how many chances did a person really get? There had been Geni, but he had let her go. Then Marcia, and she threw him out. Meredith, Emma, Renee, Erica, Rebecca… None of them worked out. He blamed his lack of relationships on The Paper, but Gary couldn't help but wonder if it was really, in fact, because of himself. He looked back on his hapless masterpieces of relationships. His Hindenbergs. His Titanics.

There were a million questions Gary had always wondered about. When he was young, the inquisitive boy frequently pestered his parents with questions such as why the grass was green and who turned the stars on at night. His mother and father were the smartest people in the world in his innocent eyes. But they never knew the answers to his questions. Now he had much larger and more meaningful problems. If the smartest people in the world didn't know the answers… who would?

Maybe true love was just once in a lifetime, Gary thought. Maybe Marcia was his only chance, and he blew it. Or maybe what he had with Marcia wasn't really love. Gary was never sure any more if he really knew what love was. Just that it was his Atlantis, his paradise that he'd forever search for, never to be quite certain of its existence at all.

Gary turned down the radio as the song ended and the jeep rolled into the small town of Emmory. Just ten miles west, it was nearly a mirror image of his home town of Hickory. And there, right at the pizza shop on the corner of Main and Dunham, was where he had first met Marcia.

During a vacation shortly after breaking up with his high school sweetheart, Geni, he had decided to come home from college for a visit. Still depressed, he had decided to take a drive, much as he was doing now. Not wanting to stray too far from Hickory, he stopped in Emmory for a bite to eat. There, he ran into an attractive woman he recognized from the college he attended in Chicago, Marcia Roberts. The two talked for nearly two and a half hours and Gary knew he had fallen head over heals in love with this suave, confident girl from Emmory, Indiana. Their discourse ended when Marcia reluctantly informed him that she needed to be getting back to her grandmother's house. Though her family had since relocated to Chicago, she was reared here in Emmory with the help of her mother's parents who had always lived next door. For years, she had come back to visit them every weekend. She was just about to get dinner when she recognized the handsome young athlete from school. The news of his recent breakup had traveled fast, and she knew this was the perfect opportunity to pounce on him, catch him while he was still on the rebound. The two dated for a year and a half before Gary proposed, knowing Marcia was the love of his life.

Jolted from his memories by a car horn behind him, Gary noticed that the light had turned green and he proceeded on his way. Ten minutes later as he reached Hickory, he stopped atop the hill watching the city go about its business, shops closing up for the night and the last strands of workers getting home to their families. Memories from his childhood assaulted Gary's mind. He knew that despite his lack of relationships, his life had been blessed. With parents who never once hesitated to shower him with love and affection, and friends who were always there for him when he needed them, no matter what. And he suddenly realized, as he sat there overlooking his childhood home, that everything would be alright.

One day, he'd find his Atlantis, his gold at the end of the rainbow. He'd go dancing on the moon and one day, he'd figure out just why Marcia had left him, why he wasn't good enough for her. But until then, he knew he'd be just fine.

Smiling, he turned his jeep around as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for McGinty's.

"Hey Marissa! How 'bout that dinner?"

**The End**

* * *

"Someday We'll Know"  
_New Radicals_

90 miles outside Chicago  
Can't stop driving  
I don't know why  
So many questions  
I need the answers  
Two years later, you're still on my mind

Whatever happened to Emilia Earhart?  
Who holds the stars up in the sky?  
Is true love once in a lifetime?  
Did the captain of the Titanic cry?

Someday we'll know  
If love can move a mountain  
Someday we'll know  
Why the sky is blue  
Someday we'll know  
Why I wasn't meant for you

Does anybody know the way to Atlantis?  
Or what the wind says when she cries  
I'm speeding by the place where I met you  
For the 97th time tonight

Someday we'll know  
If love can move a mountain  
Someday we'll know  
Why the sky is blue  
Someday we'll know  
Why I wasn't meant for you

Someday we'll know  
Why Samson loved Delilah  
One day I'll go  
Dancing on the moon  
Someday you'll know  
That I was the one for you

I bought a ticket to the end of the rainbow  
I watched the stars crash in the sea  
If I could ask God just one question  
Why aren't you here with me?

Someday we'll know  
If love can move a mountain  
Someday we'll know  
Why the sky is blue  
Someday we'll know  
Why I wasn't meant for you

***


End file.
